I got radicalised in Sydney. I was originally concerned about Western intervention in Syria. Radical left wing people dominated rallies and I started to associate with them more. My so-called ‘normal’ friends drifted away.

We would hang out at an anarchist library in Sydney. Here a bunch of people on the dole gather enough money to rent out the space and run a bookshop. It’s like extremist networking.

I came to believe that war was a symptom of bigger systems at play in society and they were the real enemy, like white supremacy and patriarchy. Antifa believe these systems need to be smashed through a process of ‘de-platforming’ to save the world. People who don’t necessarily agree on everything are united to attack their common enemy — anyone in the right wing of politics.

This micro-society became my life for four years.

They believe historically their roots were fighting Nazi oppression. They run a website which is updated every couple of weeks with a hit list of right wing names. They believe if these people are allowed to speak, society will suffer. So, they must be pushed back.

There is no mission statement, rather, it’s a dangerous rhetoric. There are a lot of very damaged people who are drawn to it.

Lots of activists came from Sydney University. They invited me along to some of their lectures. When I was organising the ‘Reclaim Australia’ rally and pushing Antifa into Brisbane, we delegated roles out across the gathering. Someone would print pamphlets that got our propaganda out there. Someone else would look after social media and online, we all gathered people to come.

I read that Antifa in the US is training people to shoot and punch. It’s the same here. Antifa in Sydney are doing martial arts to, as they would put it, ‘fight the Nazis’. It’s a paramilitary mindset.

It’s more dangerous than ISIS.

I was ideologically possessed for four years. I would speak louder on public transport so people could hear me speak, hoping they would hear my message.

The radical left of Antifa presents itself as being about compassion and empathy; it’s a Trojan horse. All conversations are about entitlement and rights, not responsibility. When these people talk about freedom, they really mean freedom from responsibility.

Often the people who are drawn to this cult don’t have a strong identity outside it. I’m not a psychologist but, like ISIS, it gives people a sense of belonging to something and having purpose.

A ‘social justice warrior’ cringe video appeared on my social media feed. I didn’t watch it at first. A couple of weeks later it popped up again so I pressed play. It was like seeing the entire cult through an outside lens. It woke me up. I realised that everything I had started to believe was wrong.

You don’t know humiliation until you’ve left a cult; I wasted four years of my life.

I cut ties over time. I’m still in contact with some ex-cult members but I don’t see anyone who’s still active.

In my 20-something generation, social media plays the role of a 24/7 preacher — like a pocket preacher. Each day you’re being validated by the echo chamber on your phone.

Antifa would say there is nothing good about Australian society. Their minds project that belief, and everything is filtered through this ideology.

Without doubt it’s a huge and growing threat to Australian society. It’s a miserable mindset. When I got out of it and stopped feeling oppressed, I finally felt like I could take control of my life. That’s what I intend to do now.”